Driving in the south, the motor's on fireLet's put it out, before the flames go higherMonday matinee, in pull we are life's throbSo hard to choose between conceit and rockSome college in the spring, the sound is all wrongReset the mate to our Flamin Groovies songDriving, night again, they're late, car crashWe'll turn to look unless we're going too fast